Do you ever notice how sometimes you have a collection of something that you never started out to collect?
Well, I noticed I have a collection of Hummel children. I've never been a big fan of these. However, as I get older I'm starting to love them more and more.
You may ask why I have this collection if I didn't like them. I'll tell you, it's because when my Aunt died she left them to me. She loved them. She collected them for years and years. Most she got from Germany when either she would take a trip there or one of my other aunts did and would pick her up some.
My Aunt wrote down which ones would go to which niece or nephew when she died. These are the ones I got.
This one is my favorite one. A little girl feeding her chickens. The look on her face looks like she really enjoys her chore of feeding the animals. I know I would too.
This darling little boy is a hunter. But, he doesn't seem to want to hurt this little bunny. So I think he decided to take him home to be his little friend rather then shoot him.
This little boy is playing a song for his puppy. Maybe he is playing "How much is that doggy in the window".
Little little guy looks like he was going out for a walk with his big walking stick. I think he went with his grandpa and is looking up to ask him a question about something they saw.
I think this sweet guy is playing his parents a song he just learned on his accordion. He looks pretty happy with himself.
This little boy seems to be walking home with his school work tucked away in his back pack. I wonder if he had a long walk? Can't you just picture him splashing in puddles as he makes his way home?Yes, the more I look at these Hummels the more I fall in love with them. It's as if each one has a story to tell.
I don't know how much each one of these are worth, nor do I care. To me they are priceless. Each time I look at one of these they remind me of my dear aunt Pat. She has been gone for years now but I still miss her very much.
When I was little she would often tell me stories. She would look around the room at different things and then make up a story about what she saw. I'm sure several of the stories she told me came from these little boys and girls that used to sit on a big shelf in her living room.
Those were happy times. Now, looking at these figures I get that warm fuzzy feeling again. Just like when I was little kid listening to each word of the stories my Aunt used to tell me.
Hugs,
Joanne
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